Inebriate
You stood outside the bar
And tried to be polite
Against a barrage of knuckles
But felt skull and skin collide
Ask the bouncers, whose arms
Feasted upon your drunken stupor
Hours' worth of anger
In town, trying to convince the banker
To lower the interest rate
Over debts they could hardly pay
You should have maintained
Your new year's resolution to be dry
At least you tried
Somebody called 911
To report a passed out guy
On the pavement,
Possibly gazing at constellations
Inside his head
The price you pay for a temporary high
On a Saturday night
Spinning mass of curly hair
Suspended in a zone of putrid air
You staggered away slightly dazed
But passing by in a Chevrolet
A child witnessed the violence
Copyright © Kenny Gwena | Year Posted 2017
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